With A Little Help From My Friends
by Darkchilde
Summary: Conner discusses "The Kira Situation" with everyone. Chapter 1: Conner and Ethan discuss the finer points of fishing.


Disclaimer: Not mine--and it's been so long since I've done this that I don't know whose they are anymore! Saban I think--and Disney, too. But doesn't Disney own everything? The title comes from a song by the same name--it's by Joe Cockern I think. The rating is for language and slightly crude humor--they are teenaged boys after all.

I never thought I'd be doing this again--but here I go. Bare with me, please--I'm still trying to work these characters out in my head, so if they seem a little off....sorry. :D

Gone Fishing

Conner McKnight was used to getting his own way. Since before he could remember, his natural charm, talent and good looks had made it easy for him to get whatever he decided that he wanted at that particular moment: in school, on the soccer field, with girls. _Especially_ with girls. Since he had discovered that they didn't actually have cooties, Conner had pretty much had his pick of the litter when it came to the fairer sex.

Emphasis on _had._

That was before he met the _one_ girl his winning smile and prowess on the soccer field didn't impress. The single female who didn't fall over swooning at the idea of him deeming her worthy of his time. The only young woman he had ever met that didn't secretly dream of him being the father of her children—or at least her prom date.

So, it was inevitable that Kira Ford would be the one girl he fell in love with.

And, of course, she had to be in love with someone else.

But it couldn't be someone who would actually be better for her then Conner—not that he actually _believed_ that there was anyone better for her, but that was beside the point. No, Kira had to fall in love with their most dangerous enemy—Trent Mercer, the White Dino Ranger, who frequently and loudly declared that he was going to be the destruction of them all.

Love was a vindictive bitch.

Conner scowled into his soda, ignoring the buzzing of the happy teenagers around him. Ethan sat to his right, engrossed in one of his various computer games, his fingers taping at the keys at an alarming speed. Every so often, the blue clothed computer genius would make some sort of noise—usually a groan of dismay when he died or failed to figure out the clue. Conner appreciated those groans—it allowed him to ignore Ethan in favor of his brooding, but still assured him that his best friend hadn't been sucked into the computer game. Again.

What, exactly, did she see in Trent now anyway? Hell, what had she seen in him in the _first_ place? Sure, he use to be a nice guy—emphasis on the _use to_ part of that sentence---but he hadn't exactly been the most fabulous, wonderful, wow guy to ever walk the planet, like Kira seemed to think he was. He was just a short, kind of strange looking guy who drew moderately well at best and was really kind of a weenie—especially when it came to his psycho dad. And she wanted _Trent_? Over _him?_

Contrary to popular belief, Conner actually wasn't quite as conceited as he was thought to be. He knew that he wasn't the be-all-end-all or some type of mortal god, regardless of what the cheerleading squad thought. But he thought that he was at least a little bit more interesting then Trent—and he knew for a fact that he was better looking. And there was the fact that he was pretty damn sure that he and Kira had way more chemistry then she and Trent did. Plus, _he_ had never tried to fossilize Dr. Oliver.

Ergo, he was—at least in theory—the better catch. Then why wasn't Kira fishing for him? It wasn't like he wouldn't let her catch him. Heck, he'd probably jump into her boat himself if he knew where she'd anchored it.

So why wasn't she telling him where her boat was?

"What?" Ethan asked, startling Conner out of his thoughts.

"What—what?" Conner tossed back, scanning the room for whatever Ethan was talking about.

"You said something."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." Ethan insisted, taking a sip out of his smoothie.

"You know, hearing things is one of the first signs of insanity." Conner said.

"So is talking to yourself." The other boy replied.

"I was not talking to myself."

"Well, you certainly weren't talking to me."

"How do you know I wasn't talking to you?" Conner paused. "And that's besides the point, because I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did, and I knew you weren't talking to me because I have no idea where Kira parks her boat. Of course, I didn't know that Kira even had a boat, so, whatever man." Ethan turned back to his game.

"I wasn't talking about Kira." Conner automatically denied.

"Right. So, whose boat where you wondering about? Hayley's? Cassidy's?" Ethan asked, never taking his eyes off the screen in front of him.

"Sick, dude." The red clad boy gagged. Ethan looked up, his eyebrows drawn together.

"Wait. _What_, exactly, are we talking about when we say "boat"?"

"You're a perv." Conner declared.

"You're the one that brought this up. Plus, you were talking about Kira's boat, which is all sorts of wrong."

"Maybe to you."

"Sick, dude." Ethan echoed his friend's previous statement.

"And…_that_ is not what I was talking about."

"So you admit you did say something."

"Wait. No. Let's just say, hypothetically, if I was to say something about Kira's boat, that—hypothetically speaking—it wouldn't be referring to…that." Conner rationalized.

"Wow." Ethan looked amused. "That's a big word, bro."

"Shut up." Conner went back to scowling at his soda, but this time for a completely different reason.

"Okay, so, say that you did say something about Kira's boat—hypothetically. What would you have meant by it?" Ethan's curiosity had obviously overtaken his desire to tease his friend.

"Well, if I _had_ said something about Kira in regards to a boat, I would have been referring to her…fishing escapades." Conner hedged.

"I hadn't realized Kira was such an avid fisher."

"You wouldn't know it to look at her, but she really is. Unfortunately, she doesn't fish for the right _kind_ of fish." Conner grumbled, once more glaring at his soda. Had some of it evaporated? "She seems to think that white sharks are the way to go."

"And you think that red snappers are the better choice."

"Well, at least the red snapper wouldn't try to hurt her."

"Yeah, but maybe she doesn't like the way they taste."

"Maybe they could change the way they taste."

"Think they could?"

"If she'd leave that damn white shark alone, they'd do their best."

"You know, fish can't change the way they taste."

"I bet they'd do it for her."

Ethan was quiet for a minute, studying his friend with an oddly serious expression. "You know, man—"

But Conner cut him off before he could get any further. "I gotta go. I'll see you later on tonight, alright?"

"Alright." Ethan agreed, looking back at his game only to realize that he'd been killed sometime during their fish discussion. "Aw, man!"

Tugging on his leather jacket, Conner turned to leave as Ethan restarted his game. "You know, she isn't the only one who can fish, bro."

"What?" Conner asked.

"I mean, you could go fishing too. Maybe you could catch a yellow angelfish." Ethan clarified.

All Conner could think to say to that was "Huh?"

"Catch a yellow angelfish. Maybe she doesn't realize that there's another fisherman out there that wants to catch her. Maybe she thinks that _that_ fisherman is just out for a joy ride and isn't actually interested in any actual fishing.." Ethan explained.

Conner thought about that for a second, before the corner of his mouth tugged up. "Really?"

"Can't hurt to cast a line, can it?" Ethan suggested.

Nodding, he turned and left, a thoughtful expression on his face. Hayley walked over to check on Ethan, lifting an eyebrow at the half empty glass. "Where did Conner go?"

Looking up from his computer, Ethan smirked. "Fishing, hopefully."


End file.
